


Best Meal

by TheDemonQueen



Series: Meal [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDemonQueen/pseuds/TheDemonQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second part to the meal series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Meal

The best meal I had was the first of it's kind. It was Christmas eve; the earliest one I can remember. My mother had begun the tradition of bringing relatives over for a "small" buffet to nibble on before the main meal as the children (at the time only me and my brother) are free to amuse themselves.

Jason, my brother, became uninterested watching the television with its flashing screen depicting a blue cat fighting a goldfish. He had wandered off to join the adults and leave me to my own devices .

I had been sat near the fake Christmas tree adorned with multiple couloured tinsel and plastic baubles on its branches. The soft shine of the lights strung around the room cast a glow over my thick, worn and tattered book.

I remember, as my mother cooked the main meal, the rain pit-pattering on the windows. Darkness beyond that only broken by the light of the streetlamps right outside. The monotonous chatter of the adults humoured me as they talked about old friends in far off places while they were stuck ; forever bound to the demands of work and debts. 

When the meal arrived , on large plates, with cutlery clumping on the side I could smell it from my seat on the other side of the room. It was the first of its kind for me, I said. 

A roast dinner.

It was beautiful. Succulent chops slathered with always-made-wrong-gravy. Fluffy, fat potatoes burning hot. Crunchy, thick Yorkshire puddings with gravy pooled like a puddle in the centre.  
Curious as ever I had like to experiment with my condiments; so picking up the vinegar I generally doused my dinner and took the first bite. The tang from the vinegar and the salt tasted divine to my childlike mind as I eagerly shovelled more into my awaiting mouth. A tradition I still hold today.


End file.
